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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606782">Hannibal Makes Breakfast Instead of Saying Sorry (and then says sorry)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kklondikke/pseuds/kklondikke'>kklondikke</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abigail Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Murder Family, Arguing, Breakfast, Domestic, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Fall (Hannibal), everything is murder family and nothing hurts, i dont think this counts as hurt/comfort, this fucking sucks and im a bad writer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kklondikke/pseuds/kklondikke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will have an argument. Hannibal feels bad. Breakfast ensues.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abigail Hobbs &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham &amp; Abigail Hobbs, Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hannibal Makes Breakfast Instead of Saying Sorry (and then says sorry)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trouble in paradise.</p>
<p>Yes, that was the phrase. Another American term he’d heard through the years. </p>
<p>If you asked Hannibal Lecter to describe his life as it were now, he would probably use the word ‘paradise’ along with a handful of elegant, pretentious words. His life with Abigail and Will was paradise. Maybe a little too peaceful for his tastes, but their nights spent quipping in front of the fireplace and calm (or quickly turned hectic depending on if Abigail was late for her classes) mornings were more than enough to make up for it. Hannibal Lecter, who had spent so long crafting his perfect little life, had found something even more perfect.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, like a moth to a flame, trouble followed Hannibal Lecter wherever he went. There was trouble in paradise indeed.</p>
<p>Hannibal took pride in the fact that his bond with Will was so strong. No matter how many times they argued, fought, tried to kill each other, tried to get someone else to kill the other, or lied to each other about debilitating brain diseases, they were still here. It seemed they loved each other far too much to let anything stop them.</p>
<p>But for the first time in years Hannibal was very troubled about their relationship. Sure, they bickered. It was an important facet of their relationship. Hannibal adored ruffling Will’s feathers just as much as Will loved pushing his buttons. At the end of the day they always climbed into bed and exchanged gentle words and soft kisses. But when Will stormed off to sleep on the couch instead that night, Hannibal knew this time was different. The dread settled in his stomach like a stone. </p>
<p>He wasn’t used to it, this feeling. Feeling… perturbed. Usually when something upset him he could just turn it into dinner. The lack of any clear course of action made him feel spun around in circles. See, guilt was not something Hannibal Lecter felt. He simply did not subscribe to the idea. Sure, he did, on rare occasions, regret, but he was not a man to feel guilt.</p>
<p>His second reaction was annoyance. Will was just being obtuse as usual. He was denying himself the ability to live happily and carefree, as he usually does. In the morning Hannibal would wake up and Will would apologize in that huffy way he does and then they’d go take the dogs for a walk after breakfast.</p>
<p>But when Hannibal awoke in the morning (after a very fitful sleep due to his human space heater being gone) he was shocked when Will didn’t say a word to him. He didn’t show it, of course. They ate breakfast in a way that the untrained eye would see as peaceful, but anyone who knew them would sense the silent war going on.</p>
<p>That anyone was unfortunately Abigail. She ate her breakfast as quickly as possible and left to class to avoid the tension in the air. Whatever it was, she really didn’t need to know. Once she was gone the two finished their food as quietly as they had started it. The rest of the day was Hell for Hannibal.</p>
<p>He’d planned to spend the day with Will — planned almost a week in advance, something Hannibal liked to do. It confused Will, but if Hannibal really loved their together time that much, who cares — but that was obviously out the window. The opera tickets carefully folded into his wallet now sat there sadly. Will decided to make some plans of his own and headed out to the river for the day. The large cooler he had in tow suggested he wouldn’t be back til the sun had set.</p>
<p>Hannibal had plenty of obscure hobbies he passed the time with, but for the rest of the day he could only muster the energy to lay around and mope. He flipped through books he had read many times before, feigning interest in for no one but their dogs who watched him from their beds.</p>
<p>Abigail arrived home after her last class and headed upstairs to work on her assignments. After the sky had gone dark, Will finally returned. Hannibal could not bother to pretend like he wasn’t chomping at the bit to see him, even opening the door so Will could lug in the cooler full of fish. He handed it off to Hannibal, murmuring something like “Do something with these,” and made up some excuse about being tired and needing a shower and not needing dinner and that was that. Hannibal was left there, holding the cumbersome cooler and the only words Will had said to him the entire day. </p>
<p>Mealtime was important to Hannibal. A part of him, even. And Will wasn’t one to skip dinner either. This was serious after all. Despite holding the ruse for so long, Hannibal could not hold it together after that. He didn’t sleep and probably couldn’t even if he had wanted to. He read more books he had already read. Drew European cities. Planned recipes. And when he was tired of doing those things he eventually resorted to pacing around the kitchen while his mind ran at a hundred miles an hour. </p>
<p>This was degrading. Undignified. Hannibal Lecter, left to a fitful, sleepless night. Left pacing around like a tiger in a cage. Left ignored.</p>
<p>Ignored.</p>
<p>Yep, that was it. He needed Will to stop ignoring him or he just might go crazy. He eventually stopped his pacing and retired to sitting at their dining table, head in his hands. What could he do?</p>
<p>Both he and Will knew he was particularly stubborn and so prideful it was annoying. He’d do anything for Will, but that did not include kissing his feet and begging for forgiveness. Well, it did cross his mind for a moment and make him chuckle to himself.</p>
<p>His train of thought slowly turned to Will. The smell of his aftershave, the way he sometimes drooled when he slept, his horrible choice in radio stations… </p>
<p>Soon Hannibal was smiling to himself stupidly. Only Will could make him feel this way. Though that only made the guilt he felt worsen. He needed to apologize. Do something. But what? </p>
<p>He’d already gone the ‘kill some guy and carve him into a heart shape’ route. He could… buy him a new fishing rod? No, that was impersonal. He could make him a new fishing rod? No, Will already had too many.</p>
<p>As the gears in his brain turned he found himself thinking of a story Will had told him about his father. His dad was an atrocious cook, but he made great pancakes. Pancakes when Will was sad, when Will got good grades, whenever pancakes were needed. Will smiled at the memory, it seemed to be a fond one for him.</p>
<p>Before Hannibal knew what he was doing, he was headed toward the kitchen. </p>
<p>——</p>
<p>Will woke with a crick in his neck. Their couch was just as expensive as everything else in their house but still not comfortable to sleep on. He wiped the drool from his face as he stretched and headed to the kitchen for some much needed coffee.</p>
<p>His grogginess was interrupted as he tripped and caught himself while entering the kitchen. He looked down, expecting to see one of the dogs between his legs, but was surprised to find a plate of pancakes instead. And not only there, but covering nearly every inch of the kitchen. They flooded the table, the counters, even the top of the fridge before spilling out onto the floor. And there, in the middle of it all, was Hannibal, cooking even more.</p>
<p>Will suddenly noticed Abigail as well as she waved from where she sat at their table, working on one of the hundreds of plates.</p>
<p>“G’mornin’,” she mumbled through a mouthful of syrup.</p>
<p>“I believe I mentioned only a few minutes ago our rule about not talking while eating,” came the reply from Hannibal cooking behind her. He continued cooking for a few more seconds still before freezing and peering over his shoulder. There were another few seconds of silence.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Will.”</p>
<p>More silence.</p>
<p>Then laughter.</p>
<p>Hannibal went stiff as Will began to laugh and eventually doubled over.</p>
<p>“This— is this— you—“ he tried to speak in between laughing. Eventually he stopped, panting and wiping a tear from his eye as Hannibal continued to watch incredulously.</p>
<p>“You know… this doesn’t count as an apology.”</p>
<p>“I know. I think you mentioned enjoying pancakes,” Hannibal’s lip curled into an almost unnoticeable, but sad smile. He turned off the stove and wiped his hands with a hand towel.</p>
<p>“I am sorry. I acted foolishly and—“</p>
<p>“Tss tss!”</p>
<p>Hannibal’s mouth clamped shut in surprise, but his jaw might as well have dropped when he realized Will used the command supposedly to silence their dogs. He was even more surprised when he realized it had worked on him.</p>
<p>“None of that. It’s too early,” Will said, still smiling. It seemed he couldn’t bring himself to still be upset. “Coffee?”</p>
<p>“Almost done brewing.”</p>
<p>“Good. Now help me eat these.”</p>
<p>Will stepped carefully around the plates on the floor and pulled out a chair, sitting in front of the pancake-full table. The smell was delicious, if not a little bit overpowering.</p>
<p>“As you wish,” Hannibal replied, sitting as well. As always, he didn’t show it, but he was brimming with happiness and relief. He stopped while attempting to rest his arms on the table, nearly getting a sleeve full of butter and syrup, and let his arms awkwardly hover before returning them to his lap.</p>
<p>“This may have been… excessive.”</p>
<p>“Gee, you think so?” Abigail snorted while scrolling on her phone. Will laughed again at that, and Hannibal couldn’t help but join in.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ughh this sucks. constructive criticism welcomed but feared.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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